Those Hazy Summer Days
by CelestialStari
Summary: John is visiting Dave for the summer when things take a turn for the worse. Over, and over. And over. [Dave's POV, warning for major character death. Rated T for language, violence, and themes.]
1. Chapter 1: The Day it All Started

[I'll just insert general warning here: this is going to be sadstuck. Anyway, this is my first fanfiction ever. Please, feel free to send criticism. This is based off of a song I love called "Heat Haze Days / Kagerou Days" about a boy and a girl stuck in an endlessly repeating day with a sickening twist to it.]

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><p>The sun was already high in the sky, beating down on the city on a lazy August day. Summer vacation was nearing its end, but summer itself had no intentions of easing up quite yet. Today was rather nice, though, and it was only a bit past noon. A breeze blew through, providing a rare relief to the usually pressing heat.<p>

I was at the park with my really good friend John Egbert. He was visiting me during the vacation, as he usually lives far away in fucktown, Washington. No, not Washington D.C, even worse, it's the Washington nobody gives a fuck about. Of course, you have just the luck to make best friends with people who live across the country from you, with the exception of Jade, who lives somewhere in the middle of the goddamn ocean and you're not even sure how she gets internet. Anyway, back to the park.

That troublesome sun made it hard to see the screen of my iPhone, which I had pulled out to check the time, even though I knew very well it was only a minute or two past when I last checked the time. With a sigh, I glanced to the swing next to me. John sat there, a stray cat residing in his lap. Its eyes were shut contentedly. John stroked the cat's soft fur, his own eyes shut like the stray's. It was silent between the two of us, as John was more focused on the cat's purrs, and I on the cries of cicadas in the trees.

"Y'know, I kind of hate summer."

I realized after a moment of staring off that his innocent blue eyes were boring into my shades. Our expressions remained like that for a moment, his honest, mine bewildered by his sudden truth, until his head tilted with a burst of smile that caught me off guard. His goofy and charming look was something I could feel tightly in my chest. I thanked my shades for shielding any waver in my neutral expression.

"Come on, man. You can't just hate summer," I remarked, propelling myself on the swing a bit.

"I just said I did." His face matched the stubborn tone he set out.

"Congratulations."

"I just don't get how you deal with this all the time. Isn't Texas an eternal summer or something?"

"Woah there, Mr. Washington. Just because you've only experienced the Texas summer doesn't mean you can go assuming things. I'll have you know five years ago, in February, there was a millimeter of snow on the ground before it melted a few hours later."

John snorted out a laugh. "Oh, wow, how did you ever deal with that?"

"It was pretty scary. We didn't know if we would make it," I returned with, surprise, more sarcasm.

I allowed myself a small laugh, and John laughed, too. "But really, it's too hot," he remarked, tugging at the collar of his lame Ghostbusters shirt. I could see the beginnings of a sunburn masking his nose and cheeks.

He gathered the cat in his arms and got up from the swing. "Let's go get a drink." His eyes were set on the store across the street from the park. I pushed up from the swing, and we left them behind us, swaying in the breeze.

John waited for me to catch up and opened his mouth to say something, but the cat squirmed in his arms and stole his attention away from me. It fussed about until the black blur of fur sprung from his arms and scampered away.

"H-hey! Wait up!" John called, and then he bolted after the cat.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I jogged after them both. The cat sprinted all the way out towards the edge of the park. Cars swam through the hazy river of the road busily as John chased the cat playfully. I could almost see him as a cat himself, his messy black hair and the cat's, one after the other. The cat pranced into the street, its tail whipping to each side teasingly. John's eyes were locked on the cat, hands a mere few inches from catching it, as he ran straight out into that street just as a bright red light poured down.

My eyes widened. Time slowed. John's fingers mere moments from the cat. The blur of a semi only seemed to inch forward. His head slowly turning, hair blown out of his bright blue eyes. His smile appeared to drop from his face ever so slowly.

The cat sat on the curb across the street now, its yellow eyes meeting my red ones.

A scream erupted from John's throat, only to be swallowed by the semi hurdling past.

"John!"

The scene was bathed in that red light still. No. This wasn't red light, it was John's blood. No longer did heat waves veil the road, it was his blood now. Only then did I realize I was sprinting towards him, hand reaching out until my knees gave out beside the body of my best friend. His torso was light in my arms, and his black hair stuck to his face. Red seemed to be the only color I could see. I was already sobbing, tears dripping off of my face and onto his tattered self. Not so much as a breath escaped his lips.

I was sure time had stopped just as my heart did in that moment. I begged for him to open those eyes, those blue, blue eyes and offer a relief to the color red, but I was not solaced. There was no more breeze, no more relief from the heat that seemed to sneer at me.

[TBC]


	2. Chapter 2: Repeat

I found myself awake in bed, covers tossed around me. It was bright in my room. I took a moment to blink, sit up some, and look around. What time was it? I found myself wondering, and patting around on my bed for my phone. When my fingers touched a cool glass surface, I pulled it up and pressed the home button, causing the screen to flash the time. I squinted my eyes and focused on the numbers, which read 12:31. I snatched up my shades and got out of bed.

Only when I was pulling on my shirt had I seen John's bag tossed against the wall and remembered what I had just seen. No, I hadn't just seen it… I had just woken up. It was a dream… An awful, awful dream. I'm used to having realistic dreams, but that was something else. Figuring it was best not to dwell on it, I pushed the memories- memories of the dream- to the back of my head. If anything, I could talk to Rose about it. On second thought, maybe that'd be something to take up with Jade. Jade makes me feel better about things.

I headed to the bathroom to take care of business, only to stop in the mirror and notice the salty streaks down my face. You've got to be kidding me. Good thing John probably wasn't in the room to see it. That guy wakes up early. And by early, of course I mean at normal human hours. I used the bathroom and washed my hands, then quickly moved on to scrub any evidence of tears off of my face.

As I emerged from the bathroom, I stepped into the living room to find John flopped back on the couch, focused on the screen of his DS.

"Screw you, youngster Joey. Your Rattata sucks!" John groaned, annoyed as he shifted to get in a more comfortable position.

I chuckled and dropped onto an empty space in the couch, eyes fixed on John.

"Oh, hey! Finally decided to wake up?" John grinned at me from behind his DS.

"I was considering it, but on second thought I think I might just…" I stretched out and yawned dramatically before I fell right on John. This earned a laugh and shove from him after an initial 'oof' of my weight on his chest.

"Argh, Dave! I'm trying to play a game here." John wiggled around under me, trying to keep both hands on his game.

"Oh, really? I didn't notice." I stayed where I was, mercilessly.

John took one of his hands and gave me a hard shove or two until I was off of him. I just smirked at him. Yep, that was John. A very alive John. I sat back in the empty spot and took comfort in the bit of his leg that touched mine. It was solid proof that everything I saw in that dream was just a fantasy conjured up by my sick, sick subconscious.

After a moment or so, John shuts his DS and shoves it over on the cluttered coffee table. "We should go do something. I've been playing this game for hours waiting on you to get up."

"Well, what do you propose we do, then?" I ask, sitting up more.

"Isn't there a park near here?"

"Jeez, John, you know it's hot as balls outside."

"I'm bored and it's hot as balls in here too! Might as well enjoy ourselves! Plus it's not even that hot today!"

"Don't you think you'll be a bit out of place outside? In open air? I thought geeks sought quiet, dark spaces illuminated by computer screens with an abundant source of Cheetos and-"

"Says the guy who doesn't leave the apartment and thinks Doritos are considered a meal."

"Ok, ok. You got me." I grin at him and hop up, going to go put on socks and shoes as John gets himself ready.

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><p>It wasn't until I was sitting on a swing next to John, checking the time on my phone, that I noticed that this was just how my dream was last night. The weather was nice, with a light, cool breeze. John was quiet, his mind somewhere else. Despite the fact that it all was really nice, I had a growing sense of unease. Something here is wrong. Maybe that dream was some sort of twisted premonition of what was to come.<p>

At this point I thought to myself, no, no, that's ridiculous. Premonition? I sounded stupid. That was just stupid paranoia. Rose talked to me often about dreams and such, and she said they all had meanings. It was probably just something about how I'm afraid to lose John or something, and it just so happens that I dreamt we were sitting in this park on a nice day. It's all just a fucked up coincidence.

As I tried to put my mind at ease, I heard a meow. A stray cat was rubbing up against John's leg and mewling at him. God, no. No no. Not that asshole of a cat. I'm not superstitious but that black cat was the exact reason John plowed out into the busy street and got-

I had to take a deep breath. It was when John picked the cat up and set it in his lap that I pushed up from my swing in a start. This caused John to look up at me, confused and curious as to what had gotten such an action out of me. I took another breath. Now was no time to panic, or to scare John. Especially because you are not the kind of guy to panic.

"Hey, John, why don't we walk through the park? Find some shady trees to sit under or something." I hid the anxiety under years of practiced calm. The cats eyes were fixed on me, and I swear that cat was staring right into my fucking soul.

"Oh. Uh, actually, I was wondering if we could go get a drink." He nodded to the store across the street, unaware.

"We can get some later or something. Come on, I haven't gotten my fill of being a typical summer kid who sits under trees like a tool who actually has plans with his life."

"Sit under a tree like a tool... with a drink!" He smiled hopefully at me.

"John, come on. Later." My jaw was clenching up. I kept hearing that scream, the screech of tires, the thud. "Let's go. I'm gonna get a sunburn if I stay in the sun like this."

"Alright dude, I get it. Your perfect skin first, John's hydration second."

"John, don't be a dick."

John made a stupid face at me. The breeze gusted for a moment, providing a nice cool air against my hot, sweaty skin, and I felt relieved. That certainly didn't happen in the dream. It should all be just fine now. John got up from the swing and the cat wiggled out of his arms again. He made the same expression, called out the same way. He was just turning to chase it when I grabbed his wrist.

"Don't terrorize the poor cat."

"Since when do you care about cats?" John asked, looking at me with a fake expression of annoyance.

"I don't. So, let's go."

"Well, where are we even going?" John stood his ground. Seems like he'll only move if I give him the GPS coordinates or some shit.

"We're going 37 degrees Northwest to Who-the-fuck-cares-ville."

"Aren't you mayor there?"

John, you snarky shit. "Damn straight I am."

John laughed, and I smiled a bit. Shoving my hands in my pocket, I started heading over to a particularly shady walking path that has been formed around the border of the park. Not a lot of people had used it lately since there was construction going on right next to it. I could not have cared less. When was there not construction going on?

John looked around excitedly at the scenery. For some reason, the half-dead Texas summer nature that speckled the concrete wastes of this city were something worth excitement to him. I thought that Washington must be much more beautiful, since it rains often enough and it's not hotter than Satan's buttcrack for three quarters of the year.

However, as we walked around, he smiled at trees we passed and his head turned for small, crumbling buildings. Now, don't get me wrong. John wasn't some magical sort of pixie boy who saw beauty in everything. He certainly wasn't someone you would describe as perfect, or near perfect. But there was something about the way he smiled with his stupid overbite at lots of things, because I know damn well that if my teeth stuck out like that, I wouldn't be smiling.

"Hey, Dave, what are they building there?" John pointed to the construction in front of us. I simply shrugged. I had no idea. Usually these things aren't interesting or useful to me, so I never really pay attention to them. "Usually, if anything is being built in my city, there are signs everywhere. Like, 'Future Spot of the Fruity Rumpus Asshole Factor! Coming Soon!'"

"In Texas, they don't even care. They're just, here, here's another helping of concrete and steel to add onto all the bajillion other buildings. Don't even worry about what it is. Just take it. Usually it's something nobody ever asked for but they spend people's taxdollars on it and consider it a good and reasonable use of the money. If they really wanted to do us a favor, they'd put in another Taco Bell."

John practically giggled at all the snarky comments I dished out. So, we're both smiling quite big when we heard some shouts. John and I looked around to see what the commotion was.

Some people were pointing up, others were waving their hands and yelling. John took a step back and followed the people's gestures upwards. A large construction beam grew larger and larger above us. My eyes immediately followed its path, which went straight to John. However, I didn't have to extrapolate much longer. The construction beam fell right onto John, hitting his chest and cutting straight through him. His blue eyes met mine, wide and scared, before they lolled back. People were screaming. I think I was too. Blood trickled from his mouth. It pooled below his body. His blood was everywhere, his now limp body suspended by the beam. I don't think I remembered how to breathe. The soft breeze died out and left no more comfort for me on that summer day. I was pretty sure I was going to be sick. It was probably less than a minute between when it happened and when I blacked out, but it was plenty of time to have it all burned into my mind.


	3. Chapter 3: Calm Before the Storm

[Author's note: Sorry for the long time with no updates! I was simply too busy to write, and then I didn't have my laptop with the drafts on it for quite a few months. Thank you for the patience of anyone who was waiting. Expect regular updates now. Only a few more chapters though.]

I bolted upright in bed. My whole body was sticky with sweat. My heart was racing in my chest, and I grabbed for my phone. The same time... Images were flashing in my mind, and it made my stomach knot up. I thought I might be sick, but I forced myself to swallow it all back down and focus for a moment. In whatever dream before I woke up, I saw John die. But it goes further than that. I woke up in that dream too, just like this. And I can remember before that too... My mind was spinning. There is not a possibility that this isn't just a dream... is there?

I shoved the covers off. If this was really happening, then John should be sitting out on the couch playing Pokémon. I pushed my room door open and looked out. Sure enough, there he was. Saying the same thing...

"Screw you Youngster Joey! Your Rattata sucks!"

I walked over and shoved his DS closed. He looked up at me, confused.

"What was that for?" He sounded so naïve to me, this impermanent anger of his apparent on his face.

"Hey," I replied, all of my energy going into making sure I sounded relaxed. "Have you had any breakfast?"

"Oh. I had some Lucky Charms earlier. I'm still kinda hungry, though."

"Alright. How about I whip up a hot steaming stack of pure bliss?"

"If by that you mean pancakes, then sure!" He was already back to his usual goofy self.

I smiled faintly and walked off to the kitchen. John followed after me. I pulled out pancake mix and the rest of the supplies and began preparing the batter. John sat at the table, kicking his feet back and forth in anticipation. Soon enough, the kitchen was filled with the smell of pancakes cooking, and John couldn't sit still. For someone who hates cake as much as he does, he sure loves pancakes. As the first few came off the skillet and began piling up on a plate beside me, John snuck over to grab one. I caught him in the act and swatted him away like a pesky cat trying to get all up in your cereal milk.

"Patience is a virtue, John." I said, smug as shit. I had the pancake power. At least all of this was making me feel a bit better. The plan was going as I hoped. Divert John's attention so he wouldn't want to leave, and keep him inside where it's safe.

John whined. "Yeah, as if you care about that. Come on, let me have one."

"Keep it up and I'll eat all of them in front of you and not give you any."

"No you wouldn't, I'd stuff one in my mouth before you could stop me! "

"So desperate for my pancakes, John. Wow. I'm flattered. But maybe we should just be bros."

"Augh! You're insufferable!" John groaned at my 'no homo' joke. Ah. As if.

I shoved him away again with a laugh as I flipped a pancake. "Come on, you know I have perfected the fine culinary art of flipping shitty flour circles, and you can't resist it."

"Yes, Dave. Take me now. Please. Your pancake skills are just way too enticing." He ensured, sarcastically, and laughed as he finally went back to sitting at the table.

My eyes rolled under my shades as I returned to focusing on making shimmering golden brown pancakes. Dave Strider doesn't half-ass his hotcakes. Eventually I managed to pile 11 pancakes up in a wobbly stack and successfully transported it to the table, where a hungry John was brimming with anticipation. He immediately grabbed for the top one, all too late realizing it was the one hot off the press, and yelped, going back and putting the two fingers he grabbed it with in his mouth.

"Great job, genius. Don't injure yourself on pancakes now."

He gave a solemn nod. Carefully this time, he moved a few onto his plate in a stack. "Got any syrup?" He asked, and I whipped out a bottle for him before sitting down to eat my own. Here things went relatively normal. We were eating pancakes, John was telling me about some bullshit a gym leader pulled on him in his game, then went on to criticize my complete lack of knowledge on Pokémon.

But then, John went quiet. His hand smacked down onto the table and the other went to his throat in a jerky movement. His eyes looked at me, begging for help. Shit, I thought, is he choking? No, no, this can't be happening; I've got to save him. Even sitting at home, just eating some goddamn pancakes, he's dying.

I leapt up and grabbed him from behind, realizing all too late that I have absolutely no clue how the Heimlich maneuver works. Nonetheless, I tried, so desperately. And then I was going about chest compressions, begging, please, please work. It was all in vain. I'd laid my head on his chest when I realized he was gone, again, right before my eyes as I was helpless in stopping it. I couldn't help but let out a sob. This time, I really blamed myself.

[TBC]


	4. Chapter 4: Lost Track

Day 4

One of Bro's swords hidden somewhere, came out and pierced him through the stomach. He bled out in my arms, I couldn't stop the bleeding in time.

Day 5

Electrocuted.

Day 6

The building caught fire. We couldn't get from the top floor down in time. John choked on the smoke.

Day 8

The stairs.

Day 9

Gas leak. John always has had more sensitive lungs.

Day 10

The building collapsed. We were on the top floor. I was only conscious long enough to see his skull crushed.

Day 13

He ate something without realizing there were peanuts in it.

Day 28

Attacked by a dog which got loose. I tried to stop it. I tried.

Day 39

I'm so tired. Why does this keep happening. How am I supposed to stop it?

Day 40

I told John I loved him.

Day 41

He didn't remember.

Day 48

I didn't even get out of bed. I can't keep doing this. I can't figure out how to save him.

Day ?

I lost track.

Day ?

There's always so much blood. I can't escape it. What did I do to deserve this?

Day ?

I'm losing what's left of my damn mind.

Day ?

It's like it's toying with me. It can tell when I want to do. I have to trick the system.

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><p>[AN: Been a long time since an update: This is a short chapter, sorry! But there's only a little bit left, and I will get it finished!]


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